


All On My Own With You

by oneoneandone



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoneandone/pseuds/oneoneandone
Summary: Gonna need to learn to lock the door.
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	All On My Own With You

“Oh. My. God,” Lindsey lowers her head onto the pillow behind her, the one she hadn’t thrown at the door after her laughing, giggling teammate, “oh my God, oh my—“

Every muscle in her body, every tendon and ligament, is stretched tight as a wire. Her belly practically aches with the tension, coiled and dangerous and—

And impotent. Because if there’s one thing Lindsey knows, it’s that she’ll never be able to orgasm again. Not after what had just happened. Not after what Kelley had just walked in on.

“Oh, calm down,” Emily peeks up from the blanket where she’d been hiding from their friend. “Nothing happened, it’s fine.” And her lips are plump and swollen, her cheeks glistening in the afternoon light, and Lindsey wants nothing more than to push her head back down. Whether to finish the job she’d started or just get the grinning woman out of her sight, even she didn’t entirely know.

“Nothing?” The larger woman looks down at the blonde, “Are you kidding me? Kelley came into the room right as I—just as I was about to—.” But the words fail her, or the embarrassment overcomes her, because she can’t finish the words.

Emily, unfortunately, doesn’t suffer from the same problem. “Come?” she asks, and Lindsey can hear the wink in her eyes even if she was currently doing her best not to look. “So what,” her hand comes back up from between Lindsey’s legs to rest over the blushing woman’s abs, massaging gently. “You think camp sex is entirely new to her? Whether a relationship or just a friend helping out a friend, trust me, Kelley O’Hara has both given and received in camp over her years on the team.”

And yes, Lindsey knows that’s true. But there’s something in Emily’s voice—

“But that’s different,” she still protests, “that’s not Kelley seeing me in that moment. How would you feel if it had been you?”

Emily shrugs, and Lindsey knows then, it wouldn’t be the first time Kelley had seen the blonde naked, in a bed, at the precipice of pleasure. “You and Kelley?” she asks, “how did I not know about this?”

“You really want to talk about this now?” the other woman kicks the blanket to the bottom of the bed and rises to sit between Lindsey’s legs. And she licks at her lips, as if to remind the brunette of just what they’d been doing before Kelley had come in looking for her roommate.

And she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to talk about this now. Or later. Or possibly ever. But now that it’s there she can’t get the image out of her head—Emily and Kelley—and she can’t quite decide whether it bothers her or not. “No,” Lindsey admits, “no, but—”

Emily resigns herself to the idea and takes a deep breath. “But you need to,” she nods, and examines her own hands intently for a moment before looking back at Lindsey. “I was having a rough time with something. And she was not in the best place in her relationship,” the blonde shrugs. “We helped each other out.”

“Naked?” Lindsey gives her a raised eyebrow, and Emily sighs.

“Yes, sometimes naked. Because sometimes when you can’t have the person you want,” she very deliberately doesn’t look at Lindsey, “you just need someone who will be nice to you. Warm and kind and just enough to forget for a little while.”

The brunette can see the slightest hint of pink over Emily’s cheeks, but she needs to know. She needed to ask. “So you stood in for her girlfriend,” she says, and watches Emily nod, “and who did she stand in for?”

“Linds,” Emily’s voice is low, a pleading in her tone. But still, Lindsey can’t stop.

“Who, Em,” she whispers, and Emily closes her eyes, like she can’t bare to see what’s before her.

Her voice is rough, and somehow delicate, when she answers, and even as close as they’re sitting together on the bed, Lindsey still needs to lean in close to hear her. “You know, Linds,” Emily whispers, “you know.”

And God, Emily’s right, because she does. She knows exactly who Emily dreamed of even as she was taking Kelley to bed. She knows because it’s always been there between them, Emily’s want and her—and her complications.

But she needs to hear it. Needs to hear Emily say the words, to hear them so she can commit them to memory, protect them.

So she can finally, finally, finally give in to it all.

Emily breathes—in and out, slow and patient—and meets Lindsey’s eyes. “You, Linds,” she whispers, “she stood in for you.”

They haven’t spoken of it, how they ended up in this bed. Haven’t set limits and terms. And neither woman is even certain what they want—the relationship or the easier path, friends helping friends, the convenient camp coupling.

Except Lindsey knows now, knows without a doubt in her mind or heart. “I was here,” she whispers, “the whole time.” And Emily looks at her incredulously.

“You were with your boyfriend. Or mad at your boyfriend and waiting for him to apologize for whatever he’d done. Or sorry for what you’d done and waiting for him to let you apologize,” Emily points out, not without a lump in her throat. “You weren’t here, not for me.”

And the brunette has to concede the point. Because Emily’s right, she wasn’t here. She was wasting time, walking the wrong road, making mistake after mistake after mistake, but even if all those things brought her to this time and this place, she wasn’t there for Emily when Emily was waiting.

“I wasn’t,” Lindsey nods austerely, “but I am now.” She pulls Emily closer, pulls Emily to lay over her there in the large hotel bed. Her fingers count every ridge and dip of the blonde’s spine, as her weight presses Lindsey firmly, inescapably, into the mattress below them. “But I don’t want to be your stand in,” her mouth leaves airy, breathless kisses down Emily’s neck. “I don’t want you to need a stand-in any longer.”

Emily gasps at the feel of her lips, letting her head fall back to give the other woman better access. And this, this Lindsey knows. This is no different for her than before. Lips and tongues and the gentle teasing of teeth. And it feels like heaven, like maybe the waiting was worth it all for this. “Stop, stop,” the blonde whimpers after several long, slow minutes, the other woman’s mouth beyond anything she’s felt before.

“Sorry—“ the brunette blushes, “did I do something wrong?” But Emily silences her with a kiss. No, kiss is too simple a word for the way the older woman destroys her with just a touch of her lips, just the taste of her tongue.

Emily pauses for a moment, pulling back her head to look down at the woman underneath her. “Wrong? Fuck, no, Linds,” she says, breathing shallowly, like she couldn’t quite find enough oxygen. The blonde gives her a lascivious grin, nipping along her jaw.

Lindsey looks at her, uncertain. But Emily makes her meaning clear almost immediately. “But we were getting someplace before,” her voice is low and deeply suggestive, “and I want to finish that.” She grins and leans back in for another kiss, dragging her teeth over the younger woman’s lower lip. And Emily doesn’t wait before she begins to move down Lindsey’s body again, stopping to linger here and there. Along her collarbone, over the soft swell of her breasts, down the well-defined ladder of her abs. Until she’s laying between Lindsey’s legs once again, chin resting against the soft mound of Lindsey’s lower belly as she watches the other woman’s eyes, waiting for that final nod of permission before she continues.

And Lindsey feels like she can’t breathe, so swiftly does the wanting, does the need come flooding back. Like it had never been interrupted, like she’d been waiting, a bow drawn taut, an arrow notched, for this moment the whole time.

Possibly her whole damn life.

“Em—,” she reaches a hand out, fingers grazing against the blonde’s cheek. And she receives the softest, the sweetest smile in return.

“If it’s too much, just tap my shoulder, okay?” Emily whispers, and presses tiny, teasing kisses to the pale skin of Lindsey’s inner thighs.

And it takes no time at all before the brunette is pressing her head back against the pillow, fingers grasping at the sheets and toes curling into the mattress.

And if she could entertain a single coherent thought at this time it would be that fuck, Emily is a virtuoso, playing her body so instinctively well that Lindsey is entirely certain no other lover could ever, would ever, satisfy her again. Emily’s tongue circles her clit, licks over it with broad, heavy strokes, and the brunette whimpers at how even the slightest of touches can send the ripples of anticipating energy sparking through her body, along her skin.

She’s practically panting, struggling against the arm Emily has casually laid over her belly, searching for more, needing everything to be bigger, harder, just—just more. And then Emily’s fingers slip through her folds, exploring her, and Lindsey gasps.

The sound turns into a whimper when a fingertip presses against her, just at the evtrance to her sex. And she lifts her hips into the touch, gives Emily her desperate permission, her unmistakable consent. There’s a strangled moan in the air that Lindsey only barely recognizes as coming from her own throat as she feels Emily enter her at last, feels those long, firm fingers slowly slipping into her.

And between Emily’s tongue against her clit, and Emily’s fingers moving steadily inside of her, Lindsey is certain that it’s entirely possible to die from too much pleasure, from want and need and the desperate, desperate ache building with her belly. Entirely possible to die from being made to wait too long, too—

“Oh, my God,” she hears the screech from the door over the blood rushing in her ears, over her thundering pulse, and Kelley’s familiar laugh just after. “Kelley,” Alex shouts, sounding a little horrified, “did you know about this?” But Kelley’s response is muffled by their teammate dragging her out of the hotel room as Lindsey stares after them with blurry, unfocused eyes.

And Emily is laughing, almost crying, between her legs. “I never—“ she wheezes, “I mean, twice. Kelley cock-blocked you twice.” She’s beyond amused and the brunette hates her just a little for it. For being so free when Lindsey’s struggling to breathe, feeling somehow both restricted by the coiled tension waiting for release and the way her and it feels like she’s suspended in air, waiting for the fall.

“Emily Sonnett,” she pulled the blonde up so that they were face to face, whispering in a dangerous way, “if you don’t go and out the chain on the door, and then come back here and finish what you started, I swear—“

But she can’t finish the threat, not with the other woman’s lips on hers, not with Emily’s tongue licking into her mouth, her thigh rubbing up against Lindsey’s core just right. And Kelley O’Hara could sell fucking tickets to the show as far as Lindsey is concerned at the moment, because Emily is driving her higher and higher and—

— — —

Kelley smirks at them when they make it down for dinner that evening, and Lindsey can’t even be bothered to care. Not after the hours she’s just spent entwined in Emily’s arms, under Emily’s body, tasting herself on Emily’s lips. And she’s feeling so good, she sits right down across from the older player as the blonde goes to grab them both some water.

“Enjoy your afternoon off?” Kelley asks, the picture of faux innocence, and Lindsey returns her grin in kind.

“What, has it been so long that you forgot what a good time looks like?” the younger woman raises her brow in a challenge.

And Kelley leans forward, one eye on Emily at the back of the room. “She’s a good one, you hear? And she’s been waiting for this chance for a long time—don’t fuck it up, Horan.” The words are sincere, and there’s a threat in her tone, but there’s also a kindness, a genuine faith in the younger woman.

Lindsey smiles, and looks over to the blonde making her way back to them, an armful of water bottles clutched to her chest as she weaves among their friends and teammates.

“I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Alone," Loren Gray


End file.
